


What's My Name?

by MacButton



Category: Harley Quinn (Comics), Joker - Fandom, Joker/Harley Quinn - Fandom, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Punishment, Spanking, blade - Freeform, knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7879459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacButton/pseuds/MacButton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Joker/Harley Quinn inspired fanfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's My Name?

She listened to him go over the plan for the thousandth time, yet he still didn’t think she had it memorized perfectly. However, she wasn’t complaining; warmth pooled between her legs as she listened to her Proxy, her Dominant, sort out moltov cocktails, assault weapons, and flashy getaways. They always had a Bonnie and Clyde type of relationship, for they always did jobs together. 

“And that’s when I get to detonate the plastic explosives!” she chirped with a loud squeal, tilting her head from side to side so her pigtails accentuated her excitement. He clapped his hands briskly to silence her. “Yes, minion, that’s your cue. Now, when we get to the tunnel…” His voice trailed off into a muffled blur as she focused on his hands. It had been a while since they played; planning civil disobedience took a lot of time. 

Her knees started to creak under her, so she shifted her weight back to rest more on her heels. Proxy always insisted she sit like this during briefings. She knew her place, but it seemed like he always wanted to remind her before every mission. She was submissive to his personality, ever since he saved her from the monotony of normalcy. No matter how wild she was, he always seemed to stranglehold that side of crazy. 

She popped her thumb in her mouth and dragged her eyes up and down his body, biting and sucking on the digit absentmindedly. The minutes dragged on, and he still was no closer to his grand finish. “Proxy,” she whined through her thumb, “are we almost done?” He stopped for a split second to scold her, “No, we’re not. Now, be a good girl and pay attention.” He turned his back to her to continue his speech, going over some of the weapons they’d be using.

Attention. She wanted, needed it from him, and it seemed like only a bad girl was going to get it. She smirked and took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be pretty, she knew that, but whoever said she couldn’t come up with a successful plan on the fly? 

“Daaaaddy?” she drew out the word as long as she could to give it full effect. Immediately, Proxy stopped and stood up straight, “What did you call me?” He barely turned his ear in her direction, giving her a second chance to confirm the name he hated. “Daddy, I’m bored!” she argued, sucking on her thumb to swallow her own anxiety. She watched his shoulders move up and down with a chuckle, and, after a lengthy moment, he turned to face her.

His eyes were dark and his tone was so low that she had to strain her ears to hear him, “That’s strike two.” Proxy took a decisive step forward, hands behind his back and bent forward at his waist to meet her eyes, “What is my name?” She studied his face briefly and removed her thumb from her naughty mouth. She brushed her nose against his and repeatedly whispered in a soft cadence, “Da-ddy. Da-ddy. Da-ddy…”

His hand shot forward and clamped against her mouth and nose firmly, successfully cutting her air supply down to its bare minimum via the thin line between his fingers. He “tsked” her with his tongue against his teeth, pushing her to the floor while he scolded, “Oh kitten. It seems as though you’ve forgotten who I am.” She writhed underneath him, her vision becoming fainter by the second. His eyes faded to blurs, and she could feel herself slip into unconsciousness. “Don’t worry, minion,” he continued, “I’ll remind you.” 

Proxy released his hand, and she gasped in a mountain of air. He held the top of her head and rose to his feet, dragging her with him forcibly as he did. He tapped her cheek lightly as she regained full consciousness, “You’re looking a little pale, minion. Let’s get some color back in your cheeks.” He threw her forward across the bed and firmly warned her, “Stay.”

He quickly grabbed zip ties and duct tape, materials meant for their job. While she was laid on her stomach, Proxy pulled her arms forward and secured her hands to the frame of the bed. He tore a piece of tape from the holder and slapped it over her mouth. “There,” he confirmed, “now I don’t have to hear that word come from your filthy mouth anymore.” 

He walked back to the table, so she turned her head to watch him. Proxy stood before his table of toys giddily. “So many ways to play, minion! What shall we try first?...” his voice trailed off as he moved indecisively between a collection of knives. He settled on one and climbed on the bed behind her. 

Proxy pressed his hand on the back of her head and shoved it to the mattress, the knife inches from her face. She stared at the blade while he played with her, casually dragging his fingers up and down her bare legs. His fingers pressed deeper into her center, clawing at her exposed skin and occasionally leaning down to bite her roughly. She watched his actions through the mirror in front of them, gasping and writhing at each one. 

“Ah ha. And what do we have here?” Proxy inquired, lifting the knife to show her through the reflection. He turned the blade back and forth between his fingers as she watched his every move, “Does my minion want to play?” She nodded furiously and raised her backside higher in the air. His grin was wide, “Then these,” he flicked the tip of the blade under her shirt and over her panties, “will need to come off.” 

She moaned at the touch of the steel against her skin when he slid it under the hem of her shirt, slicing it with ease. He worked the knife down her back, to the top of her panties, teasingly cutting through the thin fabric multiple times. She let out a few stray whines when he backed away to undress himself. She lifted her head, propping herself on her forearms to watch the free show, her Dom making sure she was paying attention. 

He tore her shirt where he made the previous incision, and let it fall carelessly down her arms. His fingers worked the offending underwear, ripping it in half and pulling until it was completely shredded. He swiped his fingers up her wet mound and let out a low moan, sampling her juices before coating himself with the remainder. She moved in the direction of his fingers, hoping she could coax him to fuck her, but he didn’t appreciate her gesture.

He placed five firm smacks against her bare backside and yelled, “What is my name!?” She cried out behind her vocal restraints while he gave her five more spanks, her ass slowly turning red. He leaned forward and turned his ear to her taped mouth, “What was that, kitten?” Her bottom already stung, and he had just started her punishment. She tried to enunciate, “Proxy,” but it left her mouth in a muffled mess. 

“Oh, you said, ‘Please, Daddy, spank me until I’m raw!’ Anything for you, minion,” he taunted. He slapped his hand back and forth between each cheek for a minute straight, moving down to her thighs for the last few. Her screams were frantic and tears streamed down her cheeks in a desperate attempt to apologize. 

Finally, he stopped his attack to listen to her sobs. He pressed his palms into her sore behind and laughed when she cried out loudly. He was twisting a knife into the wound, so to speak, and that’s all it took for her to submit. Struggling underneath him, he released his torture and knelt beside her head. He tore the tape from her lips and pried in an eerily calm voice, “Minion. What is my name?” 

She wet her lips and quickly spouted, “Proxy. You’re my Proxy.” The devilish grin returned, and he struck his fingers across her behind in one final blow. “Smart girl,” he baited as he swiped the knife between her wrists, cutting her free. 

Proxy brought her to his lap, and she winced at the soreness that she knew would last for days. He placed one steady kiss on her trembling lips and used his thumb to smear her makeup across her cheek. 

“Commit that to memory, or, next time, we’ll have some real fun.”


End file.
